A Stranger From the Future
by Lady Basil
Summary: a stranger from the future arrives in the 19th Century
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Basil, Dawson, or any of the other Disney Great Mouse Detective characters.

The candlelight flickered on at the small Victorian House on Baker Street in West London. The stars still shined brightly outside and one could hardly notice the little house just a few feet high hidden behind the massive grass blades. This small peculiar house belonged to a mouse, and perhaps the greatest of all mice. This quaint little home belonged to Basil of Baker Street, the great mouse detective, renowned and acclaimed for his recent defeat of the great arch-nemesis Professor Ratigan at the towering Big Ben of London.

Inside the house, a mouse with tan fur was standing by the fireplace holding a letter. He had a great look of concern on his handsome face as he stared thoughtfully into the blazing fire. The flames of the fire danced upon his youthful face and illuminated his figure. The mouse was in his mid twenties with greenish gray eyes and a fairly thin body structure.

Two other mice shared the residence of this mouse: Dr. David Q. Dawson, Basil's new trusted associate whom he had recently met while on the Flaversham case, and Mrs. Judson, Basil's housekeeper. Basil lived under the house of the great human detective Sherlock Holmes and his trusted associate Dr. Watson.

The mouse with the letter sat down upon the armchair near the fire and then carefully placed the letter on the side table.

"Hmmmm... how could this be Dawson?" asked the figure to approaching shadow behind him.

"How did you know I was behind you Basil?" wondered Dawson with great surprise.

"Oh, elementary Dawson, just the way the flames started flicker I deduced there must be another figure behind me. It could not possibly be Mrs. Judson; she is sound asleep by now so it must have been you. But anyhow, to matters at hand. After our last chase after Ratigan we were unsuccessful in apprehending the fiend. Yet, Ratigan left behind this Dawson," said Basil placing the note in Dawson's paw, "which describes the plans for...although it might seem preposterous...it appears to sketch out the plans for time traveling.

"Time traveling, is that possible?" questioned Dawson, with a faint smile on his face.

"Well, actually it is not a matter of time travel, as it is of time displacement. I am not really sure but it seems that Ratigan is plotting to bring something or someone from the future to the 19th century.

To be continued...


	2. Chapter 2

Note from author: Thank you very much for all your reviews! I have so many different versions of this story I don't know which one I should choose. Anyway, I hope you guys like it! :-)

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from Disney's The Great Mouse Detective or from Eve Titus' novel, Basil of Baker Street

**Chapter 2**

"Pardon?" asked Dawson incredulously, accidentally spitting out the tea he had sipped.

"No...no...Dawson, you heard me, I do believe Ratigan _is_ planning to bring someone from the future back to our time."

"But..."

"It's elementary...or perhaps more complicated than elementary...but it is not a completely ridiculous notion. I'll explain the concept in greater detail later but right now the more pressing matter is that Ratigan is bringing someone from the future to _our _time. Dawson, we _cannot_ let Ratigan get a hold of whomever the mouse might be from the future. He must not fall into the hands of Ratigan or who knows what may happen! And, by the looks of this letter, Ratigan is ready to put his plan into motion which means we have got to find that mouse right away or it will spell doom for all mousedom!"

The next morning...

Yawning, Dawson awoke and slowly rose from his bed. After fully dressing himself he went out to the breakfast table. He noticed that Basil was not there.

"Good morning Mrs. Judson," he said to the woman who had just entered carrying a tray laden with cookies and tea, "Do you perhaps know where Basil is?"

"Good morning Dr. Dawson", said Mrs. Judson with a sigh, "yes, Basil has been up for a few hours now. He went up to the attic without even having a bite to eat. Dr. Dawson, would you please take these cookies and tea up to Mr. Basil? I don't like to have him working on an empty stomach."

"Gladly Mrs. Judson," thus saying, Dawson took the tray from Mrs. Judson's arms and headed up towards the attic.

Strange scraping and shuffling sounds emitted from the attic. As Dawson neared the attic door he propped the tray in one hand and knocked on the door with his other hand.

"Oomph..ouch...oh now how did that get there," came a voice from above, "I'll be there in a second."

Slowly Dawson heard the unlatching of a lock and then saw the wooden door creak slowly open revealing Basil's silhouette illuminated against the morning's fresh sun rays.

"Dawson, come in quickly, but don't let Mrs. Judson see the mess up here. She would faint at the sight of this place."

The doctor handed Basil the tray and then entered the attic. Obviously Basil wasn't joking when he described Mrs. Judson's reaction. Both sides of the room's ceiling tilted downward, in typical attic form, and thus created the perfect place for the establishment of cobwebs and dust particles. Old boxes and papers littered the floor in piles; it seemed that no one had been here for a very very long time!

"Basil you know you could be a bit neater," reprimanded Dawson sarcastically. As he closed the attic hatch dust particles flew into the air causing Dawson the sneeze.

"Sorry doctor, I guess this isn't the healthiest of places, but I, I try to avoid coming up here."

"Avoid, you avoid your own attic? What could be so dangerous up here?"

Basil gave a meek chuckle and then slowly began pacing the room. He came to a halt near a collection of boxes. "This," said Basil pointing to boxes, "These boxes contain dangerous information which could change the history of mousekind."

"My goodness, all because of those boxes. But _what_ is in there that can be so detrimental to society?"

Basil took a deep breath and then continued slowly, "Where do I start? Dawson, do you know why Ratigan is called... _Professor _Ratigan?"

"Well, actually not really, I just assumed it was simply a prefix of respect." replied Dawson thoughtfully.

"Ratigan...Ratigan is _my_ professor Dawson. Ratigan is my professor." repeated Basil gravely.


	3. Chapter 3

Note from Author: I'm really sorry about not making the story longer but my brain just shuts off after a page or so. Anyway hope you guys like it! :-)

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from Disney's The Great Mouse Detective or from Eve Titus' novel, Basil of Baker Street. (evil laugh but perhaps I could go back in time and invent the story before Eve Titus does. I'm sorry, did I say that out loud? ;-))

Chapter 3

"_Your _professor. I don't believe it." Exclaimed Dawson incredulously.

"Hard to believe isn't it?" Basil gave a great sigh and continued slowly, pausing after each sentence, "But yes Dawson, I was once the pupil of Professor Ratigan. The entire university had a great deal of respect for the professor. He was a brilliant mouse with a mind that was as sharp as a blade. I have never seen anyone as talented as he; he taught more subjects and had knowledge in more fields than any professor on campus. This story of my association with him occurs before I knew of Ratigan's true nature; but, there was always something about him, that bothered me. Anyhow, I worked under the auspices of Ratigan, and being around the same age, we had a constant battle of wits going on."

"I guess things haven't changed much since old times." Added Dawson in a chuckle.

"Yes, I guess not." Basil paused to take a deep breath and then continued, "We did a great deal of research in the areas of science. However, one of the last subjects and theories we developed together had to do with _time, the fourth dimension_. Together we worked hard into the night perfecting our theory, testing our hypotheses, conducting experiments, and so on... After the very night we finished our theory, Ratigan's true criminal mind was revealed. Like I told you the first day we met, Ratigan is a genius "twisted for evil". "There is no depravity he would not commit" nor any "evil scheme he would not concoct". I'd tell you the details of what occurred the next night but I believe I'm running short on time. As I said earlier we have to find whoever he is, that mouse from future," said Basil tightly squeezing his paws into fists, "before Ratigan does."

"Well then, we best be on our way. B...but Basil, how are we to find this mouse?" said Dawson with great desperation. As he said this, Basil's greenish-brown eyes twinkled in the now noon sunlight.

"Ha, ha, Dawson. That is exactly the upper hand we have over Ratigan in this matter. You see Dawson, I haven't had time to finish my story yet but let me tell you one important detail of the night that Ratigan left." Basil stood up and walked over to window. For a minute he stared reminiscently outside with a faint smile on his lips. "You see Dawson, when Ratigan left we had just only finished this theory and thus, the notes we had taken were divided between us. In the next few weeks, we had planned to trade these notes to have two complete sets of our written work. However, in the hurry to proceed with his criminal plan, Ratigan never had time to take my notes or at least copy them. So Dawson, we each have half the time displacement theory. Ratigan has the copy explaining the parts of how to bring someone to our time but, to our advantage, I have the half explaining _where_ exactly this mouse will arrive."

"My goodness, so have you found the notes yet," said Dawson eyeing over the boxes Basil had pointed to earlier.

"No, but fear not Dawson. The note left by Ratigan yesterday reveals that he is still in the early stages of planning. We have time."

"Oh Basil, please don't start with any _time _jokes!" warned Dawson.

"Oh but '_time _is of the essence' and we have no '_time _to lose' and ooo... how about how '_time _flies' when one is studying about '_time'_" chuckled Basil, amused at his own puns.

Dawson shrugged his shoulders and rolled his eyes. "This is certainly going to be an _interesting _case." Thought the doctor to himself.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from Disney's The Great Mouse Detective or from Eve Titus' novel, Basil of Baker Street.

* * *

Chapter 4

"Drat it!" roared the ferocious rodent, "Didn't I tell you idiots to leave nothing behind! Now Basil of Baker Street knows about my plan." The sophisticated attire of this rodent, consisting of an expensive black suit with elegant coattails and a red bow-tie, barely hid the nefarious criminal mind that lay within him. A stranger might have been seduced by Profressor Ratigan's eloquent rhetoric and dignified title as profressor. However, the mice that knew of his true dark and despicable nature weren't fooled by his charms.

"Sorry boss," said the other mouse meekly, "but if you really need it I can steal from the detective's house." he volunteered with a sly grin.

"No! No...I...I...don't want this matter getting out into the public. I don't want you going anywhere near his house and furthermore you are dismissed from this assignment! GO!" The other mouse doubled over and left Ratigan's lair running.

Unable to control his rage the rat sent his fist slamming into the nearest object, a chair, and sent pieces of it flying all over the room.

"If only I hadn't left in such hurry then...and now I can't even steal the second part of the theory because _Basil knows_. And nor do I have the blasted papers that explain the _location_ of where the stranger will land in London!," He calmed down and took a deep breath continuing, "But...I must make the best of my handicap. I know that they will arrive within a 15 kilometer radius of where my apparatus lies and thus I'll send my henchmen searching all over London to find the stranger! And the stranger..._who_ could it be...?, "an evil grin alighted upon his face, "A famous diplomat, a queen, an athlete, or a scientist? Ah yes..." said Ratigan slyly to himself, "think of the posibilites. I could rule the world with the information I receive. I could predict wars before they occur and the help the enemy side win! I could take my place as supreme ruler or the world!" he exclaimed in a triumphant crescendo.

His face grew still, "But the stranger might know nothing significant about the future, their present, and such a mouse would only endanger my plans," he stood up and started to slowly pace the room, "No, I've come to a conclusion...if the stranger turns out to be of no use to me...they will die. I cannot risk the endangerment of my career."

* * *

"...and the ArcTangent of 64 degrees...multiplied by the projectile velocity...and accounting for gravitational forces of all nine planets...or is it 51.439?" the detective muttered to himself as he sat near an open window in the attic. He had a pen in one hand, notes propped on one leg, and one eye glued to his long black telescope. Dawson was sitting across from him, engrossed in some medical article.

"I don't know how I did all of this Dawson. It has taken me now 4 hours to calculate all these variables when in college I could have discovered the answer in 10 minutes!" exclaimed Basil incredulously.

"Ah...so you've outsmarted yourself I see." chuckled Dawson.

"Yes..I suppose I have..." said the younger mouse with a smile, "Anyhow, Dawson I figured out that our new fellow will appear here at exactly midnight tonight and somewhere near the Big Ben. I need one more hour to wrap up my calculations, and I then its time to seek out our little futuristic friend, "He glanced at his watch, "and not a moment to soon. Its ten thirty and I'll be finished by around eleven thirty supplying us with enough time to begin our search."

"Amazing," the doctor paused for a moment, "Basil, what do you think they will be like? Could they be a doctor or some powerful ruler perchance?" asked Dawson.

"They might...or might _not_. Dawson, this individual might be a janitor for all we know. They may know nothing of interest to Ratigan and if he discovers that they are useless, my guess is that he may...dispose of them." Basil replied gravely. "That is why we must find him, the stranger, and shield him from Ratigan until I can determine a way to send him back to his own time."

To be continued...


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from Disney's The Great Mouse Detective or from Eve Titus' novel, Basil of Baker Street.

Note from Author: Sorry for the long delay, I have no time to do anything lately! Anyways...this is the final chapter in this part of the series and slightly longer than the rest. : )

Chapter 5

"Now listen closely," reprimanded the large rodent,"I want you two to be on the lookout for any strange or...unusual individuals. Whats more, if you happen to spot Basil..."

One of the mice spoke up, "We clobber him, right?" He pretended to pound an invisible mouse with a club.

"Unless you'd like to spend the rest of your life inside the stomach of a very large animal such as _a cat_, I suggest you shut up!" Ratigan yelled. "Now," Ratigan cleared his voice, straightened his tie, brought his anger under control, and then continued with a fake smile "now, first of all Cervantes, never cut me off in mid-sentence. Secondly, if you or any of your thugs spots Basil, follow him but, don't let him know you're following him. Is that clear?"

The two mice nodded feverishly.

"Alright then, now take only a few of your men and search within the bounds of London, nowhere farther. I've given you the rest of your directions, so be on lookout for any activity at around midnight."

"Uh, boss who exactly are we looking for?" asked the other mouse timidly, readying himself for a sharp rebuke.

"No stupid questions, just leave!" The mice left Ratigan's presence in a hurry, tripping and then almost breaking a crystal vase in the process.

"Good help is so hard to find," Ratigan glanced out of the window and then murmured, "And so the stranger arrives..."

* * *

"Come on Dawson, we don't have any time to lose." Basil was in the main living room of his apartment. He was in the process of taking off his smoking jacket. 

"I've been ready for the past hour, Basil. I wouldn't miss this for the world," Dawson said breathlessly and continued still fixed in a state of awe, "Oh, how splendid to actually meet, why, its quite extraordinary amazing!"

Basil was only half listening to him as he was too busy readying himself. He already had his coat and inverness cape on and was now carefully placing his pipe and another strange compass-looking device into the inner pocket of his jacket. He had just strolled over to the entrance and stretched out his paw to open the door, when as if he had forgotten something important, came back into the room. He made his way to the dresser, and after a quick glance towards the doctor to see that he wasn't looking, Basil hurriedly picked up a comb, brushed his hair, adjusted his collar, and then with another quick glance at the doctor, proceeded hurriedly out the door.

Dawson, smiled, and then folded the newspaper he had been pretending to read. It was interesting to see Basil pay attention to his external appearance. Dawson brought up the image he had just seen, "If only he would do that more often," thought the doctor to himself, "he was such a handsome mouse." Dawson had started to develop almost a father-son relationship with the young detective and felt proud of him as a father might experience pride about his son.

A voice broke Dawson's train of thought, "Dawson, hurry would you, we don't have all day. Come on!"

"Coming Basil!" Dawson came outside and found Basil tapping his foot impatiently. After he spotted the doctor he signaled for him to follow and then turned and briskly headed off into the night.

Dawson had to run to catch up with him but after he became accustomed to Basil's fast pace he began to observe around him. It was a gorgeous night. The quarter moon shone brightly in the star-litten sky and proved very useful as human street lamps provided dim lighting for smaller creatures close to the ground. There was no one in the vicinity of where they were walking and there was absolute silence except for occasional call of a stray dog. After observing his surroundings, Dawson turned his attention to Basil and the strange-compass looking object in his paws.

"What is...?" questioned Dawson.

Basil looked sharply at Dawson and motioned for him to use a lower voice.

"Sorry," whispered Dawson, "What is that object you're holding?"

"Oh this," Basil pointed to the object in his paws, "this is the result of my contribution to the theory. This, dear doctor, is what allows us to deduce where our stranger will appear. It works exactly like a compass, showing the direction, but instead of showing the direction of the north pole, the dial is attracted to any disturbance in our local magnetic field. It is a bit complicated to explain the mechanism of what lies within this ingenious contraption but simply it helps us find our..." suddenly Basil stopped. His eyes were glued towards the edge of the footpath, and slowly and stealthily, he crept toward the corner and strained to listen. He then took a quick, daring glance around the edge of the building and then quietly returned back to the doctor, who was now quite curious as to Basil's strange behavior.

"Is it..." whispered Dawson curiously.

"No, its a few of Ratigan's thugs. Come on we have to hide," the detective's eyes scanned the area, "behind those bushes." The detective and his assistant leapt behind a thick, pair of green hedges just in the nick of time as voices could be now be easily heard entering the main road.

"Ratigan, must have sent these henchmen to capture our new friend. He probably told them to kidnap anybody that looks out of the ordinary. Hmm...," Basil paused to think a momentand continued, "Dawson it would be disastrous if they found the stranger before we did and although I am fairly competant in hand to hand combat, four against one a bit more than I could handle. There must be another way to turn them around, " he rubbed his knuckles into his forehead, as if to pry out an idea. The next moment, however, his face brightened as he concocted his new plan,"...ah yes, I've got it!" he had a mischievous grin on his face and was rubbing hands together as if plotting to set a trap. To the doctor, he resembled a young child now getting ready to pull some sort of childish prank.

The thugs had now entered the main road and were heading for the exact direction Basil and Dawson were headed in a few minutes ago. Basil came closer to the road and then opened his mouth to speak except..., now a voice appeared yet it came nowhere from Basil's general area.

The voice that had appeared, coincidentally it seemed, at the same time Basil parted his lips, but ithad a strong scottish accent and seemed to belong to an older mouse, "Exactly, I've never seen a stranger mouse in my life," apparently the mouse was conversing with another companion, "Such strange clothing...they must have been a foreigner, yet the mouse seemed almost to be out of place, almost...out of this world..." the mysterious voice was slowly diminishing as the body belonging to the voice moved farther away,"Yes, I saw the creature near Queen's Park..." and with this final note the voice faded into oblivion as the mouse obviously moved out of range. Dawson wondered whether the mouse had already met up with the stranger, and apparently Ratigan's thugs were thinking along the same line. They chatted amongst themselves for a minute and, as if coming to a conclusion, turned around and headed in the opposite direction towards Queen's Park.

"Basil, did you hear that? The stranger must be over there. Come on Basil, we must hurry" Dawson was now getting very irratated. The more his worry mounted that the thugs would reach the stranger, the more Basil seemed to be at ease, "What are you waiting for? Come..."

"Cool it doctor," Basil had a smug expression slapped across his face. He leaned back against the hedges and chuckled softly. His green eyes were twinkling and he cleared his throat to speak. Except this time, it was not Basil's voice again but the same scottish voice they had heard earlier.

"It...Basil it was you! What a wonderful accent, but... its the same voice but... the voice we all heard came from far away and you were right in front of me the whole time," Dawson was getting frustrated until realization stuck, "Unless Basil... you _astound_ me! You're a ventriloquist, you never told me!" exclaimed Dawson.

"It's just a little trade I picked, and it does come in handy. Anyways as you've probably guessed, Ratigan's thugs are headed in the opposite direction and our path to the stranger is free. So," Basil stood up, "if there is no further adoe, let us get on with it."

They quickly hastened towards their destination. After about fifteen minutes of very fast-paced walking, Dawson was very glad when Basil stopped. Still in the process of catching his breath, Dawson now questioned his friend, for the purpose of their abrupt stop, "What, what is it Basil? Did you find something."

"Yes, we are coming very close. See how violently this needle is vibrating," he pointed to the needle on the compass-like object. Indeed the device was almost ready to burst from its violent contortions. "It is so very close," he took a few steps forward, "it's getting closer, clos..." A loud crash from the neighboring alley rudely cut the detective off in mid-sentence. In the next moments, "meow's" were heard from the alley accompanied by some strange scraping noises.

"What was…" but before Dawson could answer Basil had already rushed into a neighboring alley.

"It sounds like a cat trying to get to something. We have to make sure whoever its attacking is all right." Yelled Basil over his shoulder. Dawson was right behind, but when they entered the alley, they met complete silence. Dawson looked around for any sign of the feline and after a moment or so, he began to believe that he had imagined the sounds. However, just then, out of the darkness of the alley, a small mouse ran past them fast and they had barely enough time to duck as the cat pounced after its prey. The mouse came to end of the alley, and trapped, turns to face its predator bravely.

Basil, quicker to realize the danger, had already rushed to the mouse's aid. As the cat was nearing the smaller mouse, ready to make its final kill, Basil put his fingers to his lips and whistled loudly. The cat's head turned, and spotting Basil as a larger mouse, or a larger meal, the greedy feline licked its lips and instead headed towards the poor detective.

As soon as he saw that he had its attention, Basil started running at full speed with the cat at his tail in hot pursuit. Dawson and the other mouse watched, horridified, as the cat chased Basil back and forth throughout the alley, jumping over litter bins and racing through empty boxes.Then just as it seemed that the detective might have a chance for escape, he came straight to the end of a wall and stopped abruptly.The cat however, to preoccupied with its chase, realized too late the danger of the impending wall. At the last second Basil jumped out the way, escaping with a only few scrapes from the cat's sharp claws, to reveal an open gutter pipe as the cat ran hard head first into the pipe. A strange sound, similar to a drain being unplugged, came as the cat's fat body caused it to get stuck in the pipe.

For a second Dawson stood stunned, and then coming to his senses ran over to Basil. He was now sitting on the floor with his back leaning againstthe back wall. He was clutching his bleeding arm where the cat had scraped him and seemed very winded, but as Dawson hurried towards him, he spoke, "Not me, _him_", he pointed towards the other mouse. Then more to himself than to Dawson, "It can't be anything else. Its the right place, right time..."

At first the detective's words confused him, but then it all came back, the stranger from the future, was right there in front of him. "So this...is our first meeting," thought Dawson to himself, "how terrible that it had be ruined by that cat!" With one more look at Basil to see that he was alright, the doctor headed towards the mouse at the other end of the alley. The detective watched intently as the doctor made it towards the stranger.

"Ur...hello, ur...I'm a doctor,are you alright?" the doctor asked the mouse cautiously. He opened the medical bag he had in his hand and knelt down near the mouse. Out of the bag, Dawson produced a stethescope and started checking the mouse for any broken ribs or deep cuts.

Basil by now had recovered, and he also carefully neared the stranger."Um, are they alright?" the detective asked the doctor.

"Yes, she's fine. Except for some bruises and minor cuts, no broken bones." the doctor answered relieved.

"That's good...wait, ...did you say 'she', not 'he'?" asked Basil, as if to make sure that he had hopefully heard somethingwrong.

"Yes Basil, _she_ not he..." answered the doctor. The detective slowly realized what his one-sidenesses had done to him. He had completely overlooked the fact that the stranger could be a woman...

* * *

To be continued... 


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